


Ace Up the Sleeve

by LaughingStones



Category: Motorcity
Genre: (of the 'something's wrong with me' variety), Alternate Universe - Magic, Asexual Character, Curses, Curses are arbitrary jerks, First Kiss, Internalized Acephobia, M/M, True Love, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-04-27 18:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14431821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingStones/pseuds/LaughingStones
Summary: Mike was first through the door of the little storage building. Chuck came in behind him, and edged cautiously to one side of the doorway, staring around at the shelves, and when he yelped suddenly and Mike whipped around, it was already too late.*Chuck gets cursed. Mike's the only one around to fix it, and he's not sure he can.





	Ace Up the Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to CurlicueCal for the beta!

It was Mike's idea to go down to the undercity, Mike’s brilliant plan to go hunting through the ruins down there to find anything worth scavenging. These things always seem to be Mike’s idea, but he's never the one to pay for it. He doesn't think that's fair at all.

Every step Chuck took, he was scanning for magic, and he and Mike sidestepped a bunch of nasty stuff that way. Of course they knew that supposedly some of the old hexes and curses left lying around down here were undetectable while dormant, but they'd only ever heard third- and fourth-hand stories about people running into those. The kind of threat no one really thinks of as real.

At least Mike didn't. Chuck probably did, he's always been smarter than Mike like that.

Mike was first through the door of the little storage building, which is the second thing that's not fair. Chuck came in behind him, and edged cautiously to one side of the doorway, staring around at the shelves, and when he yelped suddenly and Mike whipped around, the curse was already coiling around Chuck in a thick, shimmering veil of mist, it was already too late.

Mike didn't _want_ it to be too late, he was already diving forward to try to haul Chuck out of there, but Chuck held up both hands and shrieked, “Mike, _no!_ ” and he reluctantly pulled up a step short, caught his balance, hands clenching.

Even as the mist swirled and thickened, Chuck already had a screen up analyzing it, voice shaking as he mumbled to himself. It only took a few seconds before he swallowed and said, “Okay, it looks like it's non-lethal? At least, it's not a battle spell, no intentional mortality component so far--”

“Okay but how do we make it _stop?_ ” Mike demanded.

“Dude, it hasn't even settled,” Chuck said, “I can't see that much yet and _no_ I can't move before it's finished or the arcane disruption could _kill_ me, depending on the power of the spell!”

“No, I--I know that,” Mike muttered, jittering, and waited the endless minute until the mist collapsed into Chuck’s skin and vanished, leaving a weird silvery residue behind. “Okay, buddy, come on--” he started, and had to dive to catch Chuck when he tried to step forward and forgot to pick his feet up or something.

“Oh no,” Chuck said, in a tiny, shaking voice.

“What, what is it?” Mike said, dragging him onto his feet with difficulty, those long legs as clumsy as if Chuck were drunk.

Chuck took a deep breath, clinging to Mike, and ducked to hide his face in Mike’s shoulder. “I can't feel my feet,” he whispered.

“They--they're numb?”

“I--no, Mike, I think they're--get me outside,” he cut himself off.

Mike did, half-carried him out of the building to an area they'd been through before and knew was safe. He helped Chuck sit down, glancing at his feet, and slowly went still, because--

“Yeah,” Chuck said unsteadily. “Stone.”

*

It's spreading, Mike can see the hems of Chuck’s jeans tinging grey around the ankles, dragging at the rest of the fabric as the hems go stiff and hard above the solid grey of his sneakers. Three screens up as he types frantically, Chuck’s sitting on the ground with his legs stretched out straight in front of him so he'll still be able to stand after his knees turn, theoretically. It's going to remain a theory because he's _going_ to figure out how to fix this. Mike knows he is, Chuck’s brilliant, the smartest guy Mike knows, and his arcane analysis programs are amazing, Jacob’s said so.

He just has to do it fast, is all, before the stone finishes spreading or Mike goes crazy over not being able to help.

“Mikey if you don't quit pacing I _swear_ ,” Chuck snaps for the third time, and this time he sounds at the end of his patience. Mike halts obediently and goes into parade rest for lack of a better idea, stares over Chuck’s head and pretends this is some kind of exercise. He lasts about five minutes before he can't take it anymore and clears his throat.

“So, any clues about how to break it yet?”

“I think I would have said,” Chuck says through his teeth, and Mike huffs and then tries to stuff the stupid hurt down. Yeah, Chuck is used to high-pressure life-or-death situations, and he's usually not mean with it, but it's a little different when he's the only one at risk, and the only one who can fix the problem. Well, diagnose the problem. They don't know yet what will fix it.

Mike is going to _lose it_. He wants something to fight, a challenge to overcome, some bad guy to defeat! Just _standing_ here while Chuck does all the work figuring out what he needs to survive this thing is going to drive Mike completely out of his skull.

He already suggested they leave, get Chuck to Mutt and tear back up to the hideout as fast as possible to see if maybe Jacob could help, or Julie, _Texas_ , anybody! But Chuck pointed out that there was a long way to go up a vertical zipline to get back to the car, and he wasn't sure he was strong enough to keep his grip with the extra weight, and _anyway_ as soon as he finished his analysis he could call them from here with more information. Mike is pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear the mutter of “If anyone can help,” as Chuck went back to his screens.

He starts pacing again, flicking his spark staff’s little skull in the air, catching it as his staff, throwing it again to catch the skull.

“ _Mikey!_ ” Chuck snaps, and Mike bares his teeth at a crumbling wall and stuffs the skull back in his pocket. He doesn't stop pacing, he can't.

A second later, Chuck lets out a little noise like a word broke off in his throat. Mike looks sharply over at him, but he's fine, no more stone than a minute ago, though it's creeping slowly, inexorably up his shins.

“Chuckles?” Mike says anyway. “Everything okay?”

Chuck bites his lip, opens his mouth, lets out what could be a choked laugh. “Entwined hearts,” he mumbles, and drags his hands down his face. The silver sheen on his skin glimmers across his knuckles.

Mike strides over, peering at the screens like they'll mean anything to him. “What? Did you find something?”

“I found out I'm dead,” Chuck says, voice unstrung and trembling. “There's no counter except the kiss of ‘one whose heart is entwined with mine’, do you have the slightest idea how unlikely--”

“Okay, what does that _mean?_ ” Mike snaps, and Chuck drops his hands and yells, “It means someone would have to be in _love_ with me, Mike!”

Mike's insides do this weird thing where his heart shoots up into his throat and his stomach flips over and he kind of wants to yell in relief except he can't breathe because _what if he's wrong_. What if he isn't enough, what if everything he feels for Chuck still falls short of that because of the pieces that are missing that he _knows_ a normal person would feel, someone who wasn't somehow messed up inside like Mike.

Chuck’s fingers shove into his hair, work and clench there. “I don't even--Ruby would give up a couple fingers for me without even blinking,” he says thinly, “ _you'd_ probably give up an _eye_ because you're crazy, but this isn't--heroics isn't going to do the trick, here.”

“Yeah,” Mike says, dry-mouthed. “I got that.” He crouches down next to Chuck, puts a hand on his cheek and leans in, sees Chuck’s eyes widen behind disheveled bangs as he goes very still. Mike presses a careful kiss to his lips, blood pounding in his ears, and pulls back.

The bottoms of Chuck’s jeans are still grey and hard, up to the middle of his shins by now. Mike's heart contracts, his stomach going cold.

Chuck opens his mouth, the look on his face a combination of misery and sympathy. “Dude, I know you--you love me,” he says awkwardly, “like friends, like best friends. That's not… what this is about. It's the whole _true_ _love_ thing, y’know, like if you wanted to be boyfriends and get married and stuff. Which you don't, because I'm pretty sure I'd know.”

Mike swallows. “I kind of do, though,” he mutters-- _kind of_ because some parts _yes_ , he wants that! Other parts, not as much, and they're not parts normal people are happy to leave out of the picture, he's pretty sure.

“No you _don't_ ,” Chuck says in exasperation, and Mike glares at him. “Come on, Mikey, this isn't a _sacrifice_ you can make, you can't force yourself to want me when you don't!”

Mike’s jaw sets stubbornly and he refuses to look away, because Chuck is wrong, that's not what Mike is doing.

Chuck throws his hands in the air. “That wasn't even a real kiss!” he snaps. “I'm pretty sure if you actually were in love with me, you'd want to-- _mmph!_ ”

So maybe that was the problem, the piece that was missing? Shoving his tongue in Chuck’s mouth is gross, Mike has no idea why people would enjoy this, but if it'll make the difference, he'll do it as much as he has to.

Chuck makes a muffled noise into the kiss and softens, starts kind of rubbing his tongue against Mike’s, which feels even weirder, although at least it's not worse, exactly. Mike can only deal with it for a few minutes before he has to pull back, licking his lips and swallowing to wipe out the lingering sensation.

Chuck’s legs are still grey. Mike stares at them, willing them to change. That has to be enough, he kissed him right and everything, it's not _fair_ for it to still fail--

Silvery face flushed, Chuck hides behind his hands with an unhinged giggle.

“Right,” he mumbles, “well, I guess at least I get to go knowing I achieved the goal of half the teenagers in Motorcity-- _ah!_ ” With a pained yelp, he grabs at his legs, doubling over, his knees jerking. Mike puts an anxious hand on his back, wondering with a spike of panic if he actually made it _worse_ somehow and Chuck’s going to hurt for however much time he has left.

Then he sees the silver tinge to the back of Chuck’s hands lift away into a thread of near-invisible smoke and dissolve in the air. The grey on his legs is going patchy and fading back to the blue of his jeans, and then his sneakers lose their grey. Heart racing, Mike wrenches Chuck’s pants leg up with a puff of stone dust to see a hairy ankle with pale skin that shifts when he pokes it.

“No poking!” Chuck yelps, “ow ow ow oh _crap_ , pins and needles, _fuck!_ ”

“It worked!” Mike yells, grabs Chuck by the shoulders and shakes him. “You're gonna be okay, holy crap I can't believe it _worked!_ Hahaha, oh _man!_ ” He grabs Chuck and hugs him as hard as he can, shaking. It worked, Chuck’s gonna live, Mike’s not going to have to leave him down here as a weird statue and drag Jacob and Julie down to try to undo the curse and fix Mike’s screw-up. It's okay, Chuck’s okay.

Chuck is hugging him back, alternately giggling in a giddy kind of way and swearing at his legs as recently stone-frozen blood recirculates. After a few minutes, he quiets down and Mike pulls back, grinning all over.

Chewing on his lip, Chuck is frowning a little as he studies Mike. “So you--you actually--”

Oh man. Mike sits back, grin falling away. Yeah, this is the part he wasn't looking forward to if Chuck ever found out.

“Mikey?” Chuck says uncertainly. “Um, you do, right?”

“Yeah,” Mike says, and swallows.

“Okay,” Chuck says in a faint voice, and takes a deep breath. “So, um, I can't really say I ever--thought about--being with you like that before? But we can _definitely_ , y’know, try it, I mean, it's not like I'm not super opportunistic here--”

Mike folds an arm over his head, ducking his face into his knees. He's having trouble breathing again, heart fallen somewhere near the pit of his stomach, and this is so dumb, he should be _happy_ Chuck isn't freaked out by this revelation, doesn't feel betrayed by his best friend feeling more than friendly, but. This is almost as bad, Chuck being all eager and hopeful and expectant, and Mike may not know _exactly_ what he expects, but based on past experience he can guess, and the guesses make him feel sick.

“Oh geez, I'm screwing this up, saying it all wrong,” Chuck says, and tugs at the arm Mike’s hiding under, pulling it away. “I didn't mean ‘opportunistic’ like to take advantage of you, dude,” he says gently. “I meant I don't have a problem with trying out just about anything. I don't have a preference for girls over guys, that kind of thing. And maybe I never thought about you like that before, but I like you a lot, and it's not like you're not pretty hot, so we can totally try some stuff! Whatever you want.”

Mike doesn't want to try the kind of stuff Chuck is thinking of, though. And Chuck’s going to be hurt and offended just like Cara was, and then he's going to realize something’s wrong with Mike and he won't like him anymore and--

“We don't have to,” he mumbles.

“Uh. Yeah, I know,” Chuck says, and then inhales like he just got something. “Oh. Bro, was that your first kiss?”

Mike hesitates, not looking up, then shrugs, because not exactly, but sort of?

“Oh wow,” Chuck murmurs. “That, um, explains--Well! It's a skill like anything else, dude, you don't have to worry about being bad at it for long, um.” He clears his throat, says shyly, “You want to maybe practice some?”

Mike looks up at him, the soft look on the familiar, beloved face, the light in those bright blue eyes, and he feels like a heartless jerk when he hesitates and then shakes his head, looking down again.

“Oh,” Chuck says, sounding thrown. There's a pause, and then he puts a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “I didn't mean I just wanted to mess around with you,” he says, slow and careful. “I… I do… love you, bro, maybe not in the same way, yet, but I totally will, just give it time.” His face is flushed when Mike looks up, and man, he's trying so hard to be kind and Mike still can't do the right thing. He can't make himself be normal even for his best friend, the guy he's in _love_ with.

“You don't have to,” he tries, even though it'd be _great_ if Chuck felt the same way, but that's not what he's talking about. He probably couldn't feel the same if he tried because Mike is broken and weird and--

“Okay,” Chuck says in a different tone of voice, and his grip on Mike’s shoulder firms. “What the hell is going on here, dude? I'd assume you were just pretending about the whole true love thing and now you're unhappy--”

“I wasn't,” Mike protests, “I was serious!”

“--Because you think you're going to be trapped into a relationship,” Chuck goes on over top of him, “except that's not _possible_ because it broke the curse. It _has_ to have been real.” He swipes his bangs back and eyes Mike thoughtfully. “...Are you aro?”

“Am I an _arrow_ ,” Mike repeats blankly, and Chuck snorts.

“Aromantic, Mikey, not into romance. Maybe you don't like kissing and cuddles and the usual dating stuff, it feels fake and weird to you and you don't like it--no?”

Mike keeps shaking his head. He likes that stuff, he--no, crap, his eyes are burning and he buries his face in the crook of his elbow. He more than _likes_ it, he wants it as desperately as he wants his friends to be safe and happy, this need that never goes away because unlike the other it's never satisfied, this constant ache inside him. He _wants_ to cuddle and hold someone close, kiss their hair and their cheeks and their lips--but not like _that_ , and no one wants to do that stuff without all the rest of it.

Pulling in a shaking breath, he tries to force it down again, ignore the tightness in his throat and the tears caught in his lashes. Stop thinking about how much he wants to do all that stuff with Chuck.

“Okay,” Chuck says, and his voice is softer now. He scoots over next to Mike, puts an arm around him. “So, tell me what the problem is, bro, because guessing isn't getting me anywhere.”

Mike hauls in another couple breaths, trying to sound normal, but his voice is still shaky and rough when he says, “I can't have sex.”

“Can't?” Chuck says, sounding alarmed.

Mike swallows. “Don't want to,” he corrects himself. Which is weird and stupid and what, is he sick or something? He waits for Chuck to doubt and question and demand, to ask if he's ever tried, and if not how does he know he wouldn't like it--

“Oh,” Chuck says in relief, “you're ace! Dude, you could've just told me! Geez, you didn't have to be all mysterious and--”

“What's--ace?” Mike says, finally lifting his head to look at Chuck.

Chuck’s mouth opens and then his expression changes, eyes startled as they flicker over Mike’s face. Mike’s cheeks warm and he ducks to scrub the backs of his hands across his wet eyes.

Chuck’s hand on Mike’s back strokes back and forth a couple of times, trying to comfort. “Okay,” Chuck sighs. “You don't want to have sex, right?”

Mike jerks his head in a nod.

“Ever? With anyone?”

He goes to nod again, except maybe that should be a headshake? “Right,” he says instead.

“And you don't, like, you've never looked at someone and thought, Wow, they're really hot, I’d totally like to bone them.”

“No,” Mike agrees, low-voiced.

Chuck nods and waves a hand. “Yeah, so, you're asexual. Somebody who's not interested in sex. I mean, normally I'd think you could still be demi, because you wouldn't know until you, y’know, fell in love with someone and your libido suddenly focused on them, but since you, um, you _are_ in love,” his voice has gone quiet and shy, “that's obviously not the case. So. Pretty clear.”

Mike just stares at him. “You--it's--you knew about this.”

“About… asexuality existing? Yeah,” Chuck says. “I mean, Ruby’s aro, and after she explained that I went and looked it up and, y’know, kind of went down a rabbit hole there, one thing leading to the next. You, um, I guess you never did any research after you got down here, huh? Of course not, it's like I don't know you or something.”

Mike is a little too bothered to laugh at that the way he's supposed to. “What would I even look up?”

“I don't know!” Chuck says, waving an arm. “What does it mean if a person never wants sex, maybe?”

Mike’s shoulders hunch. “I know that one already,” he mumbles. “Means you're broken.”

“Whoa,” Chuck says. “Mikey, no, geez, you're not--there's nothing wrong with you, okay? It's just--the way some people are!” He pauses. “Did someone give you a hard time for that?”

Mike hesitates, because Cara didn't, exactly, she wasn't being a jerk, she was just confused and upset. He knows that. She was nice, he liked her.

Chuck takes his silence for an answer. “Was it down here? Because most people know better than that, so if they were being a jerk--”

“No, it was--before.” Mike takes a breath. “This girl, Cara, asked me out, we dated for a few months. She was cool, it was fun, except she, you know, wanted stuff.”

“Crap,” Chuck says, wincing.

“Yeah,” Mike says with a not-quite laugh. “She was excited to be dating a cadet, you know, she thought I was really cool--”

“Everyone thinks you're really cool, Mikey,” Chuck murmurs, “this is not news.”

“She didn't get why I didn't want to kiss like normal,” Mike goes on, “I think she was kind of hurt, but she put up with it. But then after a while she started dropping hints that, you know, she wanted to… go further, she was _ready_ , she was all excited about it. And I just… wasn't up for it.”

“Oh boy,” Chuck mutters.

“She seriously wasn't _bad_ about it, dude,” Mike says, a little defensive. “At least, after I explained that I _did_ think she was pretty and I liked her and stuff. She was worried I might be sick, so I went by Medical--”

“ _Oh_ geez,” Chuck says.

“--And the med-tech I talked to did, um, some tests, and said my libido was fine and I wasn't sick, so I obviously just didn't like Cara enough, which I totally did!” Mike huffs, still annoyed two years later. “She was great, I liked her a _lot!_ ”

“What a dick,” Chuck says. “Sorry, dude.”

“Yeah.” Mike hunches sulkily. “He wanted me to break up and find someone I was willing to ‘perform my procreative duties with’ when we were permanently matched.”

“Oh, huh,” Chuck says, “you were allowed to just--get whoever you wanted confirmed as your match?” Mike shrugs and nods. “Wow. I guess that's a cadet privilege.”

Mike gives another glum shrug. “I guess. Anyway, I didn't tell her what he said, but she broke up with me anyway. Which, I mean, a couple months later I ended up down here, so it's better for her that she wasn't hanging out with me anymore anyway.”

“It still sucks, bro,” Chuck says.

Mike sighs. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Kinda, yeah.”

Chuck gives him a one-armed hug. “Well, you're definitely not sick or broken or anything. They know about more than two sexualities down here, Kane couldn't wipe that out like he did in Deluxe. You try telling ace Motorcitizens they _have_ to have sex, or that they're broken, and you're gonna get jumped on so hard, they will be _pissed_.” He shudders dramatically. “Some of the threads out there are vicious. Not that you're ever on the forums or anything…”

Mike licks his lips. “Ace people,” he says. “So there's--that's a thing. Down here.”

“Yeah, bro,” Chuck says gently. “It's not like you're the only one.”

Mike’s breath shudders on the way out. “I didn't know,” he says.

“That sucks,” Chuck says, squeezing him again.

Not broken. There's other people who feel the same way, and they're not broken, not ill or messed up or--

“So,” Mike says, low-voiced, “you don't… think it's weird?”

“No, dude,” Chuck says.

It's kind of like a part of Mike that's been holding its breath for years finally exhales. A tension he didn't even know was there slowly releasing, unspooling.

He lets his head tilt to one side until it thumps against Chuck’s shoulder, and for a minute he just sits quietly and breathes, reveling and amazed. Then he remembers what they're in the middle of and keeps still a bit longer, soaking up the closeness before it goes away.

“I'm sorry,” he says finally.

“You--for what?” Chuck says.

“You were being all nice and willing to try this, and I'm--I can't do what you'd want, what you'd need. I… _won't_ ,” he corrects himself painfully. He should try, probably, Chuck deserves to be happy, deserves to get everything he wants and Mike would love to be able to give it to him, but… he can't make himself. Trying to do that stuff just feels wrong.

“O...kay,” Chuck says, sounding confused, and then freezes for a minute. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, um. Bro? Have you learned… anything new about sex and relationships since you came down from Deluxe? Besides just now, I mean?”

“Does the stuff Texas says count?”

“Hah, not most of it, no. Okay.” Chuck chews on his lip, eyeing Mike before he takes a deep breath. “What… do you actually want, dude? I mean, you're in--in love with me,” man, he blushes every time he says that, Mike likes it a lot, Chuck is so _cute_ , Mike wishes _so much_ \-- “--but what does that--what do you want to do about that?”

Mike can't even figure out what to say. He sticks his tongue between his teeth, frowning over it. Go on like they have been, that's what he should say, right? Just, stay friends, no matter how much he wants more. Since he can't get it there's no point pushing.

“For example,” Chuck says when Mike doesn't answer right away, “do you want to be, like, boyfriends?” His voice has gone quiet and uncertain again, his cheeks still flushed, he sounds hopeful, and that would be great except that--

“I can't,” Mike says unhappily. “We'd have to have sex.”

Chuck blows out a breath. “Says _who_ , Mikey? No, I'm serious!” he adds when Mike gives him a look. “We don't have to do anything we don't want to do! If we want to, like, go on dates and hold hands and--whatever else you're into, we can totally do that! Who's going to tell us we can't?”

Mike stares at him. “But you wouldn't be happy, you need sex. Right?” He's pretty sure that's right, the other cadets wouldn't have complained about being horny so much if they could just turn that off, or if their own hands were enough. “And if you were stuck with me, you wouldn't _get_ it, and I don't want--”

“Okay okay _but_ ,” Chuck says, holding up a hand to stop him, “what if I was getting sex somewhere else?”

Mike blinks.

Chuck clears his throat, dropping the arm around Mike so he can fiddle with his fingers, eyes on his hands. “Ruby and Thurman and, um, some of the other larpers, we have a, we help each other out, sometimes,” he says, flushing darker. “It's a friendly thing, it's not relationship type stuff, so it's not exactly a polyamory deal, um. So… we could do the relationship thing, you and me, be boyfriends, and I'd get the other stuff with Ruby and Thurman and them.”

“You--really?” Mike says after a long moment. “That would work, you'd seriously be okay with that?”

“Uh, _yeah_ ,” Chuck says. “The real question is, are _you_ okay with, you know, me, um, having sex with my friends?”

“I--yeah, buddy, of course, why would I--you just said you're not _with_ them or anything, so--of _course_ I'm okay with that, dude, that's great!” Mike pauses, pulls in a breath. “You really want to be with me? You said you weren't, you don't, um…”

“Yeah, but I like you plenty, even if it's not in a--a romantic way yet,” Chuck says carefully, watching Mike's face. “And I never thought about being with you before, but… bro. You're--I never thought someone could actually fall in love with me, okay?” Cheeks still pink, he looks away. “That's kind of amazing. I'm not just gonna be like, ‘oh, huh, okay,’ and not do anything about that!”

“Okay,” Mike says, “but, you're not in love with _me_. Why would you want to be with someone you don't--”

“ _Dude!_ ” Chuck says. “You realize you can date someone just because you like them a lot, right? And I _do_. Because you're amazing, and you've been amazing since we were like five. And just because I don't feel that way yet doesn't mean I _won't_. Look,” he says before Mike can keep arguing, “what kind of stuff _do_ you want to do?”

Mike swallows. “I want to hold you,” he says quietly. “Touch your face and kiss you and--not, um, that kind of kissing, I mean,” he cuts in, giving Chuck a guilty look.

Chuck doesn't look annoyed or puzzled, though, he's flushing darker again, eyes wide before he ducks his face into his hands with a high-pitched giggle. “Holy crap,” he mumbles, “okay, um, yeah, that sounds--we can do that. Definitely. Geez, you're so _cute_.”

That seems like a good reaction, but Mike has to check anyway. “It doesn't seem, I dunno, boring? Not enough?”

Chuck drops his hands, cocking his head at Mike. “It sounds really cute, dude. Like really low key, cuddly makeouts, kind of, except without the, um--different, obviously, I get the difference, honest! I promise I wouldn't make it weird, bro, I didn't mean to make it sound like--”

“Dude, Chuckles, chill!” Mike says, half-laughing. More knots of tension in his core are unwinding as Chuck keeps not minding his weirdness. “You're fine, geez.”

“Okay,” Chuck says, rubbing a hand over his face and then trying to comb his bangs down smooth again so he can hide behind them. Geez, he's so cute. “Okay, um. Anything else?”

Mike shrugs, still smiling. “All kinds of stuff, dude. I wanna date you and make you laugh and tell you you're cute and get you presents--”

“You think I'm _cute?_ ” Chuck interrupts. “Oh, you mean in a fuzzy puppy kind of way, not a--”

“You're cute, and you're hot, buddy,” Mike sighs fondly. “I'm… _ace_ ,” there's a _word_ for it, “--not blind.” There's a word for him, people like him, that's so weird. So good, such a strange relief that there _are_ others like him.

“Oh,” Chuck squeaks. “Right, um. Okay!” He takes a deep breath and gives his head a quick shake. “Okay. You realize you do half that stuff now, right? I mean, you bring me presents sometimes, you make me laugh all the time I'm not, y’know, shrieking in terror.”

“Yeah, but. It's different if I'm your boyfriend,” Mike points out, a little cautious because part of him is still half-convinced Chuck didn't mean that, is going to correct him.

“Oh, well, yeah,” Chuck says, lips curving in a shy little smile. “Yeah, okay.”

That smile puts a fuzzy warmth in Mike's chest, and for a long minute he just grins at Chuck, breathless and happy. Then he takes a breath.

“So, uh. Can I kiss you? Um, not like--”

“No, I know, Mikey, it's okay,” Chuck says, and hesitates. “Yeah.” It comes out a little squeaky, but he meets Mike's eyes with determination.

Mike's grin widens in delight and he has to duck his head and try to control it, because you can't kiss when you're grinning. Then he leans in and kisses Chuck gently on the lips. Chuck's kind of stiff and doesn't kiss back, so Mike pulls back, uncertain, and Chuck lets out a strangled giggle.

“No, sorry, I didn't--try again.”

More confident, Mike kisses him again, a little longer, and Chuck leans carefully into it this time, lips soft as they press against Mike's. Everything in Mike's chest goes warm and sweet and weightless. He sighs in pleasure when they break off, and rubs his cheek against Chuck's. He lays little kisses on Chuck's cheekbone, his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and keeps going, eager to show all the affection he's built up unexpressed, until Chuck sucks in a breath and pulls away, hands rising to Mike's shoulders to hold him off.

“Okay!” Chuck gasps. “O-okay, bro--no, don't look like that, geez--here.” He leans in and presses a light, cautious kiss to Mike's lips, and Mike melts a little more inside. He gives Chuck what has to be the dopiest grin ever, but Chuck doesn't snort at him, just chuckles a little, ducking his head. His cheeks are flushed again.

“Okay,” he says again. “Um. Kissing you is great, you're like the sweetest guy ever, and I definitely want to do more, like, cuddle makeouts, but can we wait until we get home first? I am seriously so done with this place, bro. I'm not coming down here again until I develop a detection program that sees dormant spells.”

“Yeah!” Mike says, jumping to his feet and looking around. Man, he feels amazing, this is great! More cuddles and kissing with Chuck, he's so lucky! Everything is awesome.

…Except for this place with its traps and deadly curses and junk. It's like the opposite of awesome.

“You know, buddy, I think I'm done for today too.” He offers Chuck a hand up, and Chuck doesn't let go when he's standing, just shifts his weight, nibbling on his lip.

“Can, um, can you say it again?” he mumbles.

“Sure! Say what, dude?”

“How you… feel about…?”

“Oh! Yeah,” Mike says. He licks his lips, smiling a little. “I love you,” he says softly.

Chuck kind of ducks his head, and then a half-second later his arms are around Mike, face buried in his neck. Mike hugs back hard, breath huffing out of him. He almost _lost_ Chuck. Almost lost his best friend, the guy he's known so long, spends all his time with, is, yeah, totally in love with (and that love is _real_ , as real as if he wanted sex too like a normal person, the curse made that clear). He doesn't know how he'd live without Chuck.

Instead of losing him, now Mike gets to have more of him than he imagined possible. Mike gets to hold him, gets to kiss him and date him and be his _boyfriend!_

“Wanna come junk-picking with me tomorrow?” he murmurs in Chuck’s ear. “Bet I can find you something nice.”

Chuck makes a contented noise, squeezes Mike and pulls back. “Yeah, we can totally do that. Hey,” Chuck brushes his bangs back for a second, “I can tell the guys, right?”

Mike grins at him--or beams, really--the warmth in his chest a soft, expanding cloud. “Definitely! Chuckles, if you don't think I'm gonna tell everyone I know that I get to date you--”

Chuck is laughing, shoving at him. “Oh _geez_ , Mikey--”

“--You are _way_ far off, buddy!”

“Like it's something to be impressed about! _I'm_ the one with the impressive story,” Chuck says. “I snagged Mike Chilton!”

Mike’s grin kind of fades. “I don't think most folks would exactly be jealous, if they knew I'm not, I wouldn't…”

“ _Dude_ ,” Chuck says. “They absolutely will, okay? You'll see. I bet once the word gets out, they'll be lining up to, like, hold hands and cuddle instead of trying to jump you like now.”

Mike gives him a doubtful look, but shrugs. “Whatever you say, dude.”

“Sorry, bro, being ace is definitely not enough to make people stop being into you,” Chuck says firmly. “You've kind of got this whole _icon_ thing going. Stop being a hero for a year or two and maybe you'd have better luck.”

Mike snorts. “Whatever, Chuckles.” He grins. “Hey, race you back up to the car!” He dashes away.

Behind him, Chuck yelps indignantly, then yells, “You realize I have longer legs, right?”

Mike laughs and doesn't bother to answer. Chuck will totally win the race, and then he'll be flushed and bouncy with triumph, and maybe when they're safe in Mutt he'll let Mike kiss him some more, so Mike doesn't have to wait until they're all the way back at the hideout. He's got a lot of not-kissing to make up for.


End file.
